Lil’ Kim Rocks My World

I’ve decided to dedicate this blog to all things rambling in black hipsterville. The dubious title of “hipster” has been foisted upon me by square-ass haters and my fellow in-the-know-bitches alike. So my maiden post will focus on that patron saint of negro hipsterdom – Lil’ Kim.

Why Lil’ Kim some of you are wondering? Does she not reach new limits of camp every time she leaves the house? Did she not sleep with Biggie Smalls (Biggie Effin’ Smalls!?!?!?)? Isn’t she just one more tacky headline away from a reality show on VH1 (that fake one on BET that preceded College Hill does not count)?

Yes. Yes. and Hell Yes.

That’s why she works. Who else can sashay their way between the A-List and the ‘hood with the ease of KY? Who else can rock both Marc Jacobs and Baby Phat with the grit and authenticity of a highway hooker? No one except Lil’ Fuckin’ Kim.

And isn’t that what being a black hipster is about? Looking like a hot thing while acting like a hot-ass mess? Well, that’s how it is in my world anyway.

But. That does not excuse this bidge from her general foolishness. So now the snarkiness that makes ConnyKate a proper blog shall commence.

What in holy-crackhead-hell is this bidge doing? Christ, girlfriend’s eyebrows are trying to destroy me.